Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. I just like you, Mary, and we’ve had a lot of fun. ’ ‘It cannot be helped now.
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